Twins in the Hands of an Angry Kingom
by DeiDeiArtistic
Summary: Imagine a deal between two monarchs, king and queen, who planned their children's ill fates. One, who was crowned His Majesty, ruled His kingdom. The second, Servant, who obeyed and pleased His Majesty. From birth, the seedlings were given a destiny they did not choose, afoul of cursed lives...


**Twins in the Hands of an Angry Kingdom**

**DeiDeiArtistic: Hope you enjoy this lovely story. :3**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.  
>Claimer: I own the plot of this story (if you could call it as such).<strong>

**I**

**I**magine a deal between two monarchs, king and queen, who planned their children's ill fates. One, who was crowned His Majesty, ruled His kingdom. The second, Servant, who obeyed and pleased His Majesty. From birth, the seedlings were given a destiny they did not choose, afoul of cursed lives. At mere young ages did the sands of time begin their cruel fortune who the elders strung thy mortal thread and create the knot in the bewitched souls. Servant left unnoticed as His Majesty reined ravenously over His country. Though the two bore the same face, both held different burdens.

How dare you, His Majesty, belittle us, your subjects, to nothing more than rubbish thrown onto the land, nurturing hideous undergrowths. We are what formed your pathetically-governed kingdom, and yet ye spur the audacity to act as if though some god? As the French term goes, _"De l'audace, encore de l'audace et toujours de l'audace"*_ best suits you. You are a corrupt, arrogant and horrid ruler, how Servant can tend to you with no complaints is certainly confounding. The sight of you brings forth arising hordes of raging hysteria ready to plow harmful blows to thee. Thunder forms our hearts' voice as lightning manifests our wrath that defaces the land. We send you, His Young Majesty, fields aflame in enraged revenge, destruction of ye broken land, how doth it feel to thy throbbing body? Thus, do not worry so, for His Little Majesty, _Louisette*_ will end thy pain with agility and grace. At the sheer mention of you conveys riots lashing out and turbulent atmospheres for our detestation grows in immense lengths. As you, His Majesty, parades around in thy kingdom, your followers tail thee with glaring sickles penetrating holes into your head, however only doth Servant give ye friendly gazes. Bowing down to thee, giving respect to thee, forcing unearned painful smiles and kind praises to thee are we tormented with soreness of unwilling actions and dampen our dignity to do such appalling deeds to you, but abnormal Servant minds not and is content to do so. The fact that Servant holds great loyalty will be his death as he is the only one to support you. We all, but Servant, scorn your presences, loathe your entire being and send thee malicious threats. Ferocity hath been buried into our souls and ire seeped into our body. Eyes afire from pure hatred as body is fueled with searing fires that scar the earth with heated resentment deep within the caverns of an inferno abyss that burns greatly, but Servant seems to carry affection, pride and honor for thee and will stand alone to defend you. But, you, His Majesty,_Mirabelle*_ cannot wait much longer and doth not mind Servant come with thee.

Do you, His Young Majesty, truly believe he can cavalcade about, with Servant devotedly shadowing thee, as if on great terms with us? Surely not for it is you whom caused this dispute with Foreign Kingdom. You cannot go as you please as if a leaf gliding through the wind with no concern of the world. You, His Little Majesty, will receive your upcoming sentence for the unsightly end of Foreign Majesty. You cannot just dispose of whom you dislike for adolescent reasons. If not for that, we would not be at wits-end with Foreign Country. You are in no position to carry such an egotistical head so high and laugh with untainted innocence that of the sweet gentle Nature. His Majesty walks on decaying land and we will send thee to thy doom. You self-centeredness hath cost ye your last gamble, and perhaps Servant's as well. Shall His Majesty's wretched life come to the same as Foreign Majesty's, as we all suffer from your idiocy, and if, most certainly, Servant following faithfully to your shadow. And here, as embroidery decorates our heavy-labored body, you simply sip tea in your kitchenette, in the company of your lackey Servant, as if foul-play never was. And thus, in spite of everything, ye do dare rest with relaxed shoulders as we cannot. May you get what you so deserve.

Release us from this madness you dug. Release in the ways that only His Majesty can undo, with His life. You are unfit for the Monarchy, unworthy of it. Your end will bring forth peace between us and the Kingdom of Foreign, we support unity with them and you, and if along so with Servant, are the obstacles in our way. If thou do not rid his life, then prepare to live in exile and fear man-hunt if seen. Live in shame, poverty and bear insufferable troubles as society scoffs and rejects His Once Former Majesty. Live in vast voids of dreadful misery in the life of a hermit as only vermin could stoop to boundless lows to pay ye a visit, if thou without Servant. May we be given what we rightfully so merit.

If you do not comply to out demand, we will act upon provocation. _Écrasez l'infâme* _is it not the way it goes? Shan't we spare or give mercy to such a _enfant gâté*_. We will take thy life with no hesitation and shall, His Majesty, and if we must, discard of your little lapdog Servant. Shall your heads be plastered on the wall as trophies for us, reminders of the despicable that walked the land we cared for. You two, will be erased from existence, as if never were, to be never spoken of or to be taboo. Never will both of you see the break of day and shall murk in the obscure shadows of despair to wither away. Never will we deal with unpleasant growths in our land again.

Imagine a deal between two monarchs, a king and queen, who planned their children's ill fates. One, who was crowned His Majesty, ruled His kingdom. The second, Servant, who obeyed and pleased His Majesty. From birth, the seeds were planted; grown in scrutinized states, fed the fuel of future outbreaks and to later reap what they've sown. Servant fulfilled his purpose, as he was intended to begin with. His Majesty never changed until his last moments, where out-of-character did he sincerely apologize for his demeanor and in his eyes held a true wholesome goodness and accepting look, which confused thy kingdom's subjects. Servant had gone astray, living a fugitive life, forever on the run with a trail of laughter, obliviousness and feigned virtue.

**i**

_**"De l'audace, encore de l'audace et toujours de l'audace"* —**_**Audacity, more audacity and always audacity**

_**Louisette/Mirabelle* —**_**Nicknames for the guillotine**

_**Écrasez l'infâme* —**_**Crush the infamous**

_**enfant gâté* —**_** spoiled child**

**ii**

**In case anyone is confused, Servant, aka Canada, is the one who dies.**

**This was for Legulus, because I was their Secret Santa uvu**

**It a mixture inspired by **_**Aku no Meshitsukai**_**, the NA Bros, and the writing style was somewhat based on "Sinners in the hands of an Angry God" by Jonathan Edwards.**

**iii**

**2013 EDIT: I'm considering into making a fic of this, so this may become the prologue of a story.**


End file.
